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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115213">I Hate Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_lover89/pseuds/book_lover89'>book_lover89</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moonshine and Melodies [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Based on a song, Bitterness, F/M, Friendship, barely any really, not much Bethyl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:29:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_lover89/pseuds/book_lover89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fic based on the song I Hate Everything by George Strait.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon &amp; Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moonshine and Melodies [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/857512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Hate Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! So it's been a long time since I've written anything. But this popped into my head and wouldn't get out. I wouldn't call this a Bethyl fic exactly but it's implied. I just felt these characters could fit this song so well. Please let me know what you think with a comment. </p>
<p>Also this story has not been edited.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daryl Dixon walked into the rundown bar and wrinkled his nose. It smelled awful in here. He was a man who usually didn't flinch at many smells; being a hunter and working in a garage with a bunch of men has deaden his nose to most smells. However, there was something about this place that reeked of stale beer, unwashed men, and desperation that almost had him turning around. But he was here for a goddamn drink and he didn't want to waste time finding another place. Ignoring his initial hesitation he made his way over to the bar and plopped his ass on a stool. </p>
<p>It was as quiet as Daryl expected for a Monday night. A few men were playing pool but only about five tables were occupied and there was only one other person at the bar counter. It didn't take long for a gruff old man to get his glass of moonshine and leave him be. Which was good because he wasn't in the mood to talk. His skin felt tight like it was a size too small and he was on edge. It had been the worst weekend of Daryl's life and that was saying something. He had been through some rough shit in his lifetime but the last few days had taken the cake. </p>
<p>He hadn't even gotten a full fifteen minutes of peace when a man dropped heavily on the stool beside him. He was roughly the same height as Daryl wearing jeans, a button down shirt, and an honest to God Sheriff's hat. Daryl was more than a little annoyed the man sat right next to him when there were plenty of open stools. Maybe if Daryl ignored him he would take a hint that wasn't in the fucking mood to chat. </p>
<p>It was okay at first. The man was quiet as he ordered a double whiskey, throwing it back faster than was probably wise. Daryl wasn't going to judge the man. The only reason he wasn't throwing back his drink just as quickly was because he was determined to be here a long time. He needed to pace himself. He could drink most people under the table but that wasn't what he was here for. The man ordered another double and Daryl watched out of the corner of his eye when he downed that one in go too. </p>
<p>The man was more observant than he had initially thought, because when he looked over at Daryl he said in a quiet rough voice, "I do believe I'll have one more." </p>
<p>Daryl just stared at him before nodding his head slightly; sensing something similar in this man that he was currently feeling. The man took this as an invitation to start talking. </p>
<p>"I hate this fucking bar. Hell, I hate drinking. Fuck this. I hate everything." </p>
<p>Daryl could hear a lot of bitterness in that statement. As someone who had lived a long time with a chip on his shoulder, he knew that emotion well. </p>
<p>"Name's Rick." </p>
<p>"Daryl," he grunted. He was torn between shutting this conversation and letting the man get whatever the hell he needed to off his chest. </p>
<p>The choice seemed to be made for him when the man, Rick, got out his wallet and threw a twenty on the bar. As he was doing it though an old photograph fell out and hit the ground. Daryl bent down and picked it up. As he handed it back he noticed it was a woman. She had long brown hair, big brown eyes and a skinny frame. She was smiling and looked about 10 years younger than she probably was now, judging by how old the picture looked and how old Rick seemed to be. </p>
<p>"Don't even know why I still carry that damn thing. That woman messed up my life. I'd hate her so much if she wasn't the mother of my kids." </p>
<p>Daryl didn't know what to say. He wasn't the most talkative person on a good day and comforting someone just wasn't ever what he'd been good at. Not that he ever tried much. Luckily for him Rick didn't seem to need him to say anything. </p>
<p>"Everything I have ever loved this woman took from me. You see what I do for a living. Loved every part of my job. Now I hate it. Hate waking up and walking into that damn building and seeing his face." </p>
<p>He let out a bitter laugh. There was no amusement in it whatsoever. </p>
<p>"You see, my partner was my best friend. We took this job together almost right after high school. And lord was it fun." </p>
<p>This time a genuine smile briefly lit his face. It faded fast though. He downed his drink again and ordered another. Daryl wasn't going to lie, he was interested in this story. He could guess what happened next though. </p>
<p>"Thought everything was fine. My marriage wasn't perfect but we loved each other. Two kids. Nice house." Rick paused again, seemingly to gather himself. </p>
<p>"I was wrong. I had to stay late one day to catch up on some paperwork. Finished faster than I thought. You can guess what I walked in on." </p>
<p>Daryl sucked in a breath and muttered, "ouch". </p>
<p>Rick let out another laugh. "You could say that again. Now I live in a shitty one bedroom apartment while they live in my house with my kids. I hate that I can't move on. I hate him. I. Hate. Everything." </p>
<p>They both ordered another drink. </p>
<p>They sat there for another hour drinking and Rick talking. Daryl commented every so often but didn't need to say too much. He liked this man. He could see a glimpse of the man Daryl imagined he used to be. Before he was so filled with bitterness and hate. That was the recurring theme of the night. Hate. This man really did hate everything. He was even sure at one point he said he hated every season, and every color that reminded him of his ex wife. </p>
<p>Finally Rick stumbled off the barstool and said he had to go. He had kids to pick up in the morning. Luckily he only lived a block away. When he went to pay Daryl waved him off. It was the least he could do for him. He cut him when Rick tried to thank him. He looked him in straight in the eye and said, "No. Thank you. You did more than you know. Thanks for everything." </p>
<p>Once Rick was gone, Daryl pulled out his cellphone and hit the speed dial. He knew what he needed to do. </p>
<p>"Daryl?" said a sweet voice. She sounded exhausted. And sad. It pierced something in it to hear her sound that way. </p>
<p>"Yeah Beth it's me. I know…" he paused. And then started over. "Babe I'm coming home. We're going to work this out. I love you." He didn't ever want to hate her. He didn't want to ever become the man Rick was now. </p>
<p>"Yes Daryl. I miss you. Come home." </p>
<p>He smiled. He needed to find Rick and thank him again.</p>
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